


The Heart Wants What The Heart Wants

by Stardust_and_Blades



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, College AU, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Break Up, Post-Time Skip, Roommates, Weddings, a hint of violence but not really that much, nyma is terrible but I needed a villain, or I guess someone to ruin klance for the sake of plot, temporary high school au, there is a wedding involved but sadly it isn't klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26279842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardust_and_Blades/pseuds/Stardust_and_Blades
Summary: Keith and Lance had a beautiful relationship--up until Keith walked in on Nyma and Lance kissing. Running away from the pain of being cheated on by the person he loved most, Keith moves away and is not seen again until years later on his second year of college. He moves into the dorms for the first time, excited to be on his own for the first time. However things take a drastic turn when he is paired with his ex-boyfriend, Lance, to whom hasn't spoken to or about in years. Facing an awkward living situation and an unresolved past, Keith and Lance have to come to terms with their predicament--and the attraction that never truly died.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 98
Collections: Soft _sensational _klance, Softyetnot, The Klance Pinefest Fics





	The Heart Wants What The Heart Wants

**Author's Note:**

> hOLA fellow NERDS
> 
> I bring to you a oneshot I had been working on for awhile, hence my lil radio silence on here. Sadly I could not get everything I wanted pumped out in time, but this should suffice. It is part of the big klance pinefest going on! I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I did, and there is some art that goes with it to! I'll link it asap
> 
> happy reading :)

It is Keith’s second year of college, and he decided it is time he moved out of Shiro’s and Adam’s place to try out the dorms. He skipped the first year, since he didn’t have enough money to pay for his lodgings and his textbooks at the same time. The college he is going to only offered him a partial scholarship, where the classes were covered but other stuff he had to worry about. Living with Shiro and Adam was less expensive, and he was able to afford buying the bare minimum of food on his measly salary. He loves his brother and Adam, but he was getting sick of walking in on them almost doing the dirty. He needed his own place. An area he could call his own.

Or at least, semi-his own. 

By the time he made enough cash, the individual dorms were taken, leaving him with a roommate on his hands. He didn’t get to choose the roommate, since Pidge is off campus and Matt graduated last year. So, it had to be a random selection. He just hopes they are quiet and doesn’t come home with girls or guys in the middle of the night, drunk from too many beers and not enough sense in their thick skull.

Pidge is helping him with his stuff up the stairs, room 209 at the end of the hall. 

“Excited to meet your future best friend?” Pidge jokes. “Well, second best friend. I come first like always.”

Keith wouldn’t use the word “excited”. He is more...beside himself. He isn’t opposed, nor jumping at the opportunity. He doesn’t make friends easily, and he highly doubts this situation will be any different. The best case scenario he can think of is the two coming to mutual terms of staying out of each other’s hair until the end of their lease. Maybe, just maybe at the last minute he will get a call from the room and board office and be told someone dropped out, leaving a bedroom vacant and ready to be filled.

He can dream.

Keith shrugs, shifting the box in his hands to one arm and digging in his pants for his key. “Not really, but hopefully it’s better than Shiro and Adam being the source of my blindness.”

“That bad?”

“I caught them three times on the couch. Once on the kitchen table. You’d think after the first time they would send a text saying ‘hey! Don’t come home so we can have adult fun time!’, or something like that.”

“To be fair Shiro was gone for five months on the job.” 

“Still doesn’t validate burning my retinas off.”

“Consider yourself somewhat blessed,” Pidge grumbles. “Friday night. Cancelled plans. Parents home. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Yikes.” Keith says, opening the door. The room is empty, however it shows signs of already being personalized. The right side was covered in posters of space, the ceiling speckled with glow-in-the-dark stars, and a bisexual flag above the bed’s headboard. Boxes sat about unopened, the owner most likely have stepped out to retrieve the rest or to say goodbye to their loved ones. Their desk held an ordinary blue lamp, and beside it--the sun almost blocking it out with its vibrant rays--is a picture frame of the roommate and their family.

Their very large family. One capturing an array of children hugging a tall figure, the parents smiling in the background and the older siblings looking directly at the camera. As Keith’s gaze zooms in on the photograph, as the faces grinning up at the one who beheld the pure scene of familial delight, Keith’s blood froze in its place. He came to a sudden halt in his steps, Pidge bumping into his back and swearing up at him, claiming she could have tripped. The grip on the box began to loosen, and for a moment--a brief second--he could feel his heart cease its beating.

The person he is to room with is no ordinary stranger. He is no random from the street, meant to be a blur in Keith’s ever changing life. He is not a friend to whom Keith met in grade school, leaving as the leaves turned orange and brown and his once pure promises turned moldy. He is not even an enemy, a person Keith would beat the shit out of or make their lives a living hell.

No, this person is someone who was once upon a time, a prince. He was a friend to Keith in his years of teen angst and bullshit, a lover when innocent feelings turned rosey and hot. He is the boy who smiled every day he saw Keith, snatching his hand and swinging them together in the high school halls and at the sweethearts dance. He is the boy who called Keith at 3am with sudden epiphanies of the real world, and who cried to Keith during his very first break-up with a girl using him.

He is Keith’s first love. The one who got away. The boy who filled Keith with thousands of butterflies, but plunged him in the deepest depths of rotting despair on a day Keith ran into him kissing someone that wasn’t Keith.

He is the man who broke Keith’s heart in high school. And Keith just had to be the one out of thousands of students to be paired with him, the fragile pins, needles, and string holding his heart together immediately came undone. The box slips from his fingers and he starts to back away, his fight or flight instincts going into overdrive.

“Keith? Keith, what’s wrong?” Pidge asks, but he is shaking his head and sweating practically out the door. Pidge saw the photo, their eyes widening and moving to grab Keith, but he was already making a break for it. He mumbles how he needs to get out. Needs to leave. To fix this mistake because he cannot handle going back to the mindset of that time. He isn’t sure he is strong enough to face him, and refuses to let himself be torn to pieces yet again. 

It isn’t until Keith has fled Pidge examines the room. They heard of this “Lance” fellow, but never actually met him since Keith and them met senior year of high school, when he was new to the school. He occasionally talked about Lance, but only when Pidge asked. When he first moved to their town, they asked why he moved and he answered he needed to get away. Needed a change in scenery. Said he was to surround himself with other people that weren’t Lance.

If Pidge ever asked about Lance, they were told minimum details. They were boyfriends. They weren’t anymore. It was a messy breakup. That was the only time Keith fell in love. No more, no less. 

Pidge picks up the photo that spooked Keith, looking over it with careful eyes. They have never seen a photo of Lance. Keith never described him either. Didn’t hold onto any photos on his phone, but they have a vague idea of which one in the picture is this Lance person. He is smack dab in the middle, all the children surrounding him. His brown hair is tousled and messy, his grin wide and genuine, and his eyes the color of shining ocean blues after a rainy day. He wore a tank top and shorts, toes digging into the sand and the bisexual flag colors made into a bracelet and wrapped around his wrist. There was a chain around his neck of some sort, but Pidge couldn’t see what design the necklace held. 

Pidge was interrupted by a knock by the door, clumsily putting the photo back in its place as they met eyes with the same person in the picture. He smiled at Pidge, waving a hand.

“Hey there, you must be my roommate, right?” Lance said. Pidge blinked, the guy practically radiating sunshine. “I’m Lance, the coolest roommate you’re ever going to have, people will be jealous.”

He held out his hand, but Pidge ignored it, squinting their eyes and folding their arms. He was nice. Incredibly nice. But this was still the guy who broke Keith’s heart so bad he couldn’t spin sentences correctly without panicking. They weren’t about to abandon their duties as overprotective best friend because this Lance fellow was nice. Anyone can be nice. What mattered was if they were sincere. 

“So. You’re Lance”

“Uh, yeah. And you are?”

“Your worst nightmare if you don’t answer my questions correctly.”

Lance frowned, confused. “Wait, what? I’m lost.”

“As you should.” Pidge whipped out their phone and started to type. They had to take notes. Important ones meant to benefit or possibly blackmail Lance as revenge. They may not talk about Lance much, but when they do Pidge can tell Keith ached by just the mention of him. 

Lance held up his hands in defense. “Listen, I don’t know who pissed in your cheerios, but I was just trying to be friendly. Bad blood between roommates would be--”

“I’m not your roommate,” Pidge interrupted, uninterested in what he had to say. “But you can tell me this: Do you know a Keith Kogane?”

Lance stopped, taken aback by Pidge’s blunt attitude. But also by the mention of Keith. He hadn’t heard about him--from him--in years. And here there was a short young college student he didn’t know questioning him on his ex, as if they knew the entire story. As if Lance was the enemy.

Pidge stared at him, waiting. Analyzing every movement he made, every expression that ran through his face in seconds. Stiff posture, a hanging mouth, the welcoming hand he had out falling to his side. The millisecond of shock and pain flashing in his eyes before settling on quiet indifference. How he tried to smile it out, kicking at the past from grabbing him, but failing miserably as he sighed and leaned against the doorway. Pidge expected scoffing. An ugly reaction that would have justified Pidge throwing one of the few heavy textbooks lying around. But no, just...sadness? Pidge knew they had a bad break-up, but they thought it was bad enough they would bad mouth each other. Lance didn’t seem to hold said attitude.

Lance scratched his neck, a nervous tick of his. “Uh...yeah. Yeah I know him. Knew him? It’s been years.” 

“I see,” They typed, staying distant. “One word to describe him. Go.”

“Hotheaded.” Lance said, no hesitation. But a fond, nostalgic smile crept on the corners of his lips. “But also sweet. In his own weird way. Like he--”

“I said one word, not a monologue.” They weren’t in the mood for trash talk or gushing. They wanted cold hard facts. Who knew how long it would be for Keith to return from the housing office. Pidge doubted he would be able to change roommates so fast, it would have to be the second semester for an opening to occur. Or at least a couple of weeks into the semester, a time where students are to decide if they wanted to commit or drop out. Either way, Pidge wanted to break the ice a little bit with Lance so Keith wasn’t forced to succumb to cruel awkwardness. Or worse, a screaming match that had a future in Keith staying at their place and stuffing his emotions until they dangerously bubbled over. With Pidge involved, worst case scenario was they see Lance as a complete asshole and prevent the two from meeting face-to-face. They would gather his things and they would never return.

But that was if Lance was an asshole.

With the questions Pidge was throwing his way, the black and white lines surrounding their situation blurred. Lance didn’t give off the asshole-ex vibes. He didn’t give off anger nor resentment, but rather a whimsical energy mingled with the salty taste of the past. As if...he was mourning the loss of the relationship to this day. He sounded more like a person who lost touch with the most important person in the world, like a man struck down by a cruel side of fate. He did not boast about how his life was better or worse. He did not yell at Pidge, kick them out, or insult Keith with every fiber of his being.

He talked. He was as transparent as the crystal waters of the seven seas. He held nothing back, and spoke to Pidge with kindness.

It could be a mask. A really good mask. Pidge wasn’t given a lot of details from Keith. But it didn’t feel right to throw Lance under the “bad guy” category. Naturally Pidge didn’t trust him as far as they could throw him. But they didn’t rule out the possibility that maybe--just maybe--there was a piece of the puzzle to the breakup Lance and Keith remained ignorant about. What could that piece be? There was only one way to find out. Keith’s going to hate it, but if push comes to shove, it’ll happen. 

If Lance answered their last question correctly, they will proceed with plan B.

“Last question for you, Leonardo.”

“It’s Lance.”

They waved a hand at him. “Whatever. I have one more thing to ask you, and if you answer it in any way indicating you’re going to cause hurt, I’ll gut you like a fish right here.”

“I don’t even know your name! Jesus, are all roommates this aggressive?”

“I told you I’m not your roommate.”

“Coulda fooled me.” He shrugged. “Ask away. Give me two minutes to send my love to my family before you ruthlessly chop my head off.”

Pidge didn’t waste a second. “Do you hate Keith?”

Lance’s mouth hung open, forming a perfect O as he stared at Pidge for what felt like an eternity. His eyes widened for a moment, the irises holding a dam until cracks riddled its surface. He didn’t know where to put his attention--what to think, it was such a big question. Yet held an obvious answer for Lance. Or else he wouldn’t have hugged himself, bracing himself for a blow that already happened. The crows feet barely making a home near his eyes crinkled, exposing how the dam’s currents destroyed the cracks, Lance’s desire to hide ruined in an instant. He couldn’t conceal the effect of Pidge’s question. Couldn’t hold back the brief moment of self-loathing; the many times he looked up at the stars and asked for a do-over. 

It was hushed, a secret between two comrades, afraid the walls would repeat what was spoken. 

“No. I could never hate him.”

Pidge clicked their phone off, satisfied. They walked towards the door, recalling they had to meet up with their brother for lunch. “Good. You get to live another day.”

Lance nodded, not saying much. Pidge couldn’t have that.

They stopped at the door frame, back to Lance and their glasses reflecting the fluorescent lights. “By the way. Keith’s your roommate. Be nice, this won’t be the last you see of me.”

They left Lance, Pidge hearing a loud “Fuck” as they descended the stairs, an amused smile never leaving their face until they got to the restaurant.

Pidge kind of feels bad for leaving Keith, but he was a big boy. He can handle himself. 

He needed to. Pidge got the brunt of the work done. Made sure he wouldn’t spiral as soon as he was to come in contact with Lance. Pidge predicts they will receive a call later in the night, panicked and about to destroy the entire campus. He may come over to avoid being around Lance for too long. He may not, nutting up and bracing himself to face his past.

Pidge will be there, like the protector they are. But also like a protector, they want what is best for their loved ones. Pidge wants Keith to be happy, and while it’s true he doesn’t talk about Lance, they can see the small rose buds waiting to bloom on the thorns encasing his heart. He may not handle emotions well, running away from them at any chance he could get. But when he does, it’s a scene to remember. 

Lance was a different story, but Pidge will come back to him later when they get a better feel of him. Who knows, maybe it will be Lance who informs Pidge of what happened in high school. 

\-----

Keith was unsuccessful with the boarding office. As of now, changing rooms was not possible. He could yank himself out and go back to Shiro’s and Adam’s, but he’d have to pay a $500 fine for dropping his two-year lease. He didn’t have the money for the fine, not when he worked at a grocery store part time for nine dollars an hour. It sounds feasible, but when he has to squeeze classes, homework, and exams inbetween, there were only so many hours he could take on without having a crisis.

He could be in the room when Lance wasn’t in and sleep at Shiro’s when he returned, however that would mean Keith figuring out Lance’s schedule, plans, events, and potentially Keith walking in on Shiro and Adam having date night. 

Keith moved out because he wanted to be independent from his brother. He wanted to have the college experience he didn’t have his first year due to money. He saved up from his first two semesters all the way through summer for the dormitories. Yeah they weren’t the single bedroom ones Keith was hoping for, but still. They were a source of individuality. A way for him to taste what it was like living on your own. He met his goal and would stick with it--despite his intense desire to grab all his shit and run. He would not let Lance ruin this. As much as Keith hated--feared--the very idea of seeing him again, he would not allow Lance another win. Not let him indirectly control his thoughts and actions. Keith was his own person, and if Lance had a problem sharing a room he can find his personal way of getting out of the contract. Keith washed his hands of him years ago, the rooming situation should have little effect on him.

If only his heart would stop beating so damn hard.

He trudged up the stairs, sighing to himself. It was later in the day, Keith taking a nice walk with his music on full blast to clear his head after the failed attempt of finding another room or roommate. The clear blue skies were dusting into yellows, pinks, and purples, night awaiting its time to shine. The light was on in the room, peeking out from beneath the door. Keith glanced at his keys, debating if he could knock on a random door and a person would secretly trade him. He wasn’t very good with people, though. Never had been. The idea scrapped as fast as it formed, he shoved the key in the lock and twisted, bracing himself.

Keith’s side was still bare, what with him running off into the unknown. Lance’s side decorated to the very core, not one strip of aged white paint being seen from the wall accessories. 

He stood in the doorway as his gaze slowly made its way to Lance sitting on the bed. He had a phone in hand, elbows resting on his knees and eyes meeting Keith. Keith stilled, Lance’s striking azure twins freezing him in place. Keith tried to speak. To say something intelligent, witty, or even scornful. But all that came out was a strained “Hi.”

Did someone turn the heat up or was he dying? If he died right here he didn’t have to deal with this. Hey God now would be the time to strike. 

Lance too was stuck, mouth agape and his eyes wide. But unlike Keith, he wasn’t one to stay still amidst silence or awkwardness. He had to break it.

He fumbled for the button to turn his phone off and stood up fast.

“Keith! Hi!”

He hardly changed. There were some obvious changes, like his height and his hair being a tad longer than it was usually kept in high school, but other than a growth spurt and a few years of TLC to his locks, he was Lance. His skin smooth, eyes bright as ever, and wearing his signature green jacket Keith had a history of wearing. His bracelets clumped together as he threw an arm out, the bi bracelet and ones made from his cousins and siblings intermingling. He never took them off, the ropes held together by beads and tight knots. 

He was open. No hostility, no sign of remembering the fall of their relationship. He was...He was Lance. Adorable, loving, friendly, positive Lance. His Lance from his memories. The Lance Keith fell so hard for, and was convinced they would last pass high school with how stupidly in love they were.

The Lance he wanted to take to prom, but didn’t in the end because of what happened.

Briefly, it was difficult to recall that vivid day without poking holes at the hearts surrounding his vision.

However Keith did. He dredged up the long night of crying himself to sleep. The numerous phone calls and texts he got from his friends and brother. The knocking on his front door that didn’t stop until it became late enough neighbors would call the cops. 

His early morning flight out of the state, running away from what hurt him the most.

“Long time no see,” Lance said, his tone wobbling a bit from nerves. “It has been awhile.”

“Yeah, it has been.” Keith didn’t shake his hand, making it a point to cross his arms. “It’s been two years.”

Lance’s smile wavered, his arm dropping and the gleam in his irises dullen. Keith wanted to take his hand. To act as if they had been together this entire time, separated by miles yet emotionally still together. For it to be a story with a happy ending after the incident, where they let go of all the hurtful things they said and the horrible acts that occurred. To be who they once were: drunk on pink saturated affection and convinced they were lucky soulmates. 

No, there was a darkness there that lingered. A gaping wound still trying to heal, it being picked at and the scab being ripped off to prove Keith was alive. For Keith to watch as the blood coursed down his chest, a hand sometimes clawing at it to bleed more, waiting for the infection of heartbreak to be drained out with the crimson. 

There was never any yellow coming out of the wound. Just more blood. Keith could not tell if Lance too bled, for he could have found someone new and deemed himself innocent of the whole ordeal. He was full of spirit because he didn’t care for Keith and the damage done, he cared to live out the rest of his days with someone better.

That’s what Keith told himself. Better to believe you have been disposed of rather than hold onto a one percent chance the person you loved may still love you. One prevents the pain from spreading, the other leaves room for him to spiral back into a place he refused to return to. 

“How have you been?” 

Keith shrugged. “Fine.”

“Did you...did you just transfer? I was here last year but didn’t see you.”

“No, this is my second year.”

“Oh that’s...” His head bent down, wiping away the giddy facade Keith always saw through and settled on what he was truly feeling: sadness. “That’s cool.”

Why was he sad, shouldn’t he be relieved? Happy Keith didn’t ruin his first year of college with his existence? Pissed off Keith was invading his plans in having a pleasant second year? It didn’t make sense for him to be mopey. That was his department. It’s why he was written down as “The Emo” in Pidge’s phone.

And it didn’t help seeing Lance down made Keith’s chest hurt in response. Whether they were together or not, Lance being in any pain had Keith wracking his brain to find a solution to what troubled him. Except in this case, he didn’t know what. They weren’t a couple anymore, nor were they friends like in the early days of high school. Yet Keith wanted to...tuck his hair behind his ear and say everything was okay. To put their foreheads together and whisper sweet words of encouragement.

All Keith could do was squeeze his own arm and look away, ignoring his desire to scoop Lance up. A couple of beats went by, both boys so close, yet so far away.

“Listen...” Keith started, hesitant. “I know we were thrust together, but I can move out. I don’t care about the money. If you are uncomfortable with me being here, I’ll go crash at Shiro’s. It’s not like I haven’t.”

“What?” Lance said, attention back on Keith.

“I’ll go live at Shiro’s,” Keith began to gather some of the bare essentials, coming to terms with losing $500 (oh well) and never seeing Lance again. “He doesn’t live far from here. He has an extra bedroom that used to be mine.”

He had a jacket and was grabbing some jeans when Lance grabbed his wrist. Keith stopped, going still as he stared at Lance’s hand.

“Wait, Keith. That isn’t it. I don’t...I’m not uncomfortable.”

“You’re...not?” As if Keith’s confusion couldn’t be more prominent.

Lance shook his head. “No! Of course not. You’re...” 

Lance trailed off, the words leaving him as soon as they came. He fought to say something appropriate, the results bare and without a logic Keith could understand without overthinking. They were exes, exes avoid each other like the plague. Would be relieved one half made it so easy to cut a clear line between them. However the possibility of Keith walking through the door and never returning sent a wave of despair down his throat. 

But he pushed through. He shoved his body against the tendency to ignore his wants and desires. He messed up once with Keith, he wasn’t going to allow a second time.

Keith was about to pull away when Lance’s hand tightened, Keith flicking his eyes to Lance. There was something written on his face. Something deep and unending, Keith unable to decipher what Lance was trying to say. He stood there, patient for Lance to surprise him, anxious he would be opening himself up to being stabbed.

“Keith, I know we left off on really, really bad terms. We said some shitty things--things I can never take back. However, it doesn’t mean I hate you.” Lance said, Pidge’s question never leaving his mind. “What happened left us hurt and damaged. But not once had I ever thought ‘wow, thank god he is gone’, because Keith we never had the chance to actually get to the bottom of what happened that day. We never had the chance to sit down and just...talk.”

“You know exactly why we didn’t talk.” Keith countered, biting down on the fierce impulse to rip his arm away and sneer. He wasn’t here to pick a fight. To Keith, it would be exhausting to get in another heated argument with Lance two years later. He didn’t have the energy for it. Didn’t want the drama, for he barely started to smile like he used to.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be blunt.

Lance was prepared for said response, though.

“I know,” He said, his hold on Keith’s wrist loosening, but not letting go. Rather, he was cradling his wrist, almost touching his hand but not quite. “I do, and that’s why we need to talk. If you want to leave, you can. I won’t stop you. But if you give me a chance, I promise I’ll explain everything. I’ll answer all your questions and hopefully we can get this heavy weight off of us. I don’t know about you, but when you left town I couldn’t help but regret I didn’t chase after you. I won't make that mistake twice.”

Keith let out a frustrated sigh, conflicted on what he should do. He was torn between booking it down the flight of stairs, or actually hearing Lance out. 

“So, you want me to subject myself to living a full semester with you with the fifty-fifty chance we could end up hating each other in the end?”

“No. I’m asking you to give me a week.” Lance said. “One week to clear everything out, and if by the end of the week we are still at odds, you can find another roommate.” 

Lance allowed a small, knowing smile to grow on his lips. “Besides, you have to wait a week regardless to see if any freshies bail out. You won’t have to pay the contract fee, and you get to spend seven whole days with yours truly.”

Lance let go of Keith just to bow, winking up at him. Lance may act like an airhead, but he could really play at life like it was a game of chess. And he was winning.

Keith did weigh the pros and cons. Pro, he avoided losing money and spared his eyeballs from potential exposure to cavity inducing fluff at the Shirogane household. Con, he tiptoes the line of having his heart completely shattered for a second round. Pro, he is closer to his classes and thus has more time to sleep or study, and con: he subjects himself to mass homicide. 

By the time he made a decision, he was already lowering his bags.

“Fine,” Keith said, crossing his arms yet again. “I’ll give it a week. But I have three conditions.”

“Shoot.”

“One, you stay on your side of the room.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Ugh, what are we, twelve?”

“Two,” Keith went on, glaring daggers at Lance. “We get everything out in the open as soon as possible. I don’t want a week to pass by and you still haven’t explained yourself.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“And three,” Keith held out the third finger, it being the most important in his book. “We are just roommates. Whether we have a good talk or not, I want nothing to do with you romantically. I burned our bridge a long time ago, I’m not about to rebuild it.”

He held out a hand. “Deal?”

It was quick, but something flashed through Lance’s eyes. Keith couldn’t discern what it was, all he could tell was the third condition had the most effect on Lance. It exhumed the biggest reaction, one where he covered it up with a smirk and shook Keith’s hand.

“Deal. But don’t get mad at me if you can’t resist my charm.”

Bonus points to Keith if he didn’t lose his damn mind within a week. He wasn’t sure his gay heart could handle this. 

\-----

It was Thursday, and Lance made plans for him and Keith to finally sit down and talk.

Keith had already moved his stuff in, noting how he was to keep some of his stuff in boxes in case the discussion with Lance backfires. He didn’t know what to expect. He just knew he had to have a backup plan.

He must admit though, the week had gone by relatively smooth.

Lance was in and out of the dorm room, running late to classes or plans with his best friend Hunk. When he was home, it was past eleven at night and he wanted to curl up in bed and sleep, or he was with Keith for an hour until a friend called him up and he had to leave. Keith couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He couldn’t decide if it was a positive because less time away means they could maybe get through living together just fine, or if it was a negative, for Lance could have used sweet words and really not want to get to the bottom of their breakup. For some reason, the latter hurt more, Keith a simple tool in Lance’s game. With the positive it was less direct; unintentional and portrayed a sense of erratic busy-ness Lance had following him. 

As much as Keith appreciated the space, as much as he liked getting his work done and carefully analyzing the syllabus, he couldn’t help but hope for a day he and Lance would be in the same room and simply live. For Keith to hear Lance groan into his textbook and claim the college was secretly plotting his death, earning a smile and a comment on how he better prepare for finals now. To have Keith wake up and tickle Lance’s nose with a feather, his dreams interrupted by the tingly sensation of a bird’s fur and a sneeze. Maybe even bond a little, like watching a movie or talking about their classes.

But it was always go, go, go. So when Lance burst through the door on a Thursday night and told Keith to get dressed, he was a little confused. Get dressed for what? Keith wasn’t a big party fanatic, and he was pretty sure the school wasn’t being evacuated. Keith tried asking, but all he received was a leather jacket to the face, Lance stating if he didn’t hurry they would miss their reservation.

The two were decked out in one of their nicer outfits, Lance ditching the green hoodie for a stylish blue jacket, a white button down, and dark washed jeans. Keith kept to his gloves and sneakers, maintaining an essence of comfort. He swapped his beaten down red t-shirt for a form-fitting red v-neck, the leather jacket Lance threw at him, and black jeans. 

They arrived at a quaint chinese restaurant, a popular destination for the youths, especially college students when they weren’t living solely on ramen. Keith cocked an eyebrow up, a question mark hovering over his head. He doubted this place had reservations. It was late august, if anything they would be packed on holidays. First semester held nothing of importance until the very end of its reign, when finals set in and stress became a temporary guest in everyone’s nightmares.

They were seated in no time, handing the two menus and taking their drink orders. Keith glanced at Lance over the plastic, the boy invested in the variety of combinations. 

“You made it sound if we were a minute late we would go hungry.” Keith commented.

Lance grinned. “Twas a masterful plan to get you out before you changed your mind.”

Keith gave a fond smile. “Or you could say free food on me. No one, not even me, would turn down the opportunity to have free food.”

“You wound me Keith,” Lance said, falling back on his chair like a scorned, hurt lover about to pass out. “You only want me for my looks and money. The torture of being wealthy and handsome!”

“If that was so you wouldn’t be hiding a costco sized box of Cup of Noodles under your bed and using the coffee water to eat it.” Keith deadpanned.

“Wow someone loves going for the jugular.”

Keith flipped through the pages, fighting his instincts to be smiley. “I learned from the best gremlin.”

“I pity Shiro.” Lance said.

“Pity me. I’m the one who lived with two lovestruck fools constantly making heart eyes. Now I live with my ex-boyfriend.” Keith said, making it a point for his voice to remain neutral and hold no animosity. He didn’t want to cause Lance to feel bad, not when he had been easy this week and was offering dinner.

Lance saw through it, though. The waitress came by with their drinks, took their order with a sweet smile, and left the two boys to stew in their situation. 

Keith told Lance not to wait until the last minute to talk or avoid it. The years had gone by, but they never left him with the sensation of closure; of his time truly being done with Lance. Not when his body physically reacted the same way he did when they first saw each other in their sophomore math class. Keith was the new kid at the time, hailing from the sands of Nevada and adjusting to his new family. 

Shiro was graduating that year, leaving Keith to fend for himself in the halls and classrooms. If he could compare it to any moment in his life, it would be his first day in kindergarten, where his attachment to his mother was forcibly removed and he was thrown into a crowd of random children.

He cried and cried and cried. Enough for the teacher to call his parents and ask for them to pick up their son for the rest of the day. 

However unlike kindergarten, he had no more tears left to cry.

\-----

_“Mr. Kogane,” The teacher said, picking up his clipboard as Keith ran in, late and probably making a bad impression. “Glad to see you were able to join us.”_

_“Uh...yeah,” Keith shifted on his feet, tightening his grip on his backpack’s strap. “I got lost.”_

_“Understandable,” The teacher motioned to the front. “Introduce yourself, then we will get started on the lesson. It’s in the middle of the quarter, so I don’t expect you to have today’s homework. Come to me after class and I’ll give you your textbook.”_

_Keith nodded and introduced himself, short and sweet. He wasn’t a big talker. His seat was to the left, near a window in the middle row. He sped over to his seat, plopping himself down with ease and dropping his backpack at his feet. He was digging for his notebook when a couple of mechanical pencils and a book fell out. He reached for them, internally cursing as he tried to be discreet and not get on the teacher’s bad side. Yet. He began to collect his things as a hand reached down, picking up his book. Keith glanced up._

_A boy sat beside him. He had chestnut hair, it shining in the afternoon sunlight and soaking the sparkles of the rays. His eyes were bright, not wavering as sapphire gems met violet shards. He smiled, warm like a summer’s day._

_Oh no he’s hot._

_“Dark and mysterious,” The boy commented, flipping the book from its front to back. “Just like its owner.”_

_Keith swiped the book from him, shoving it back where it was supposed to belong. “I see picking on the new kid is still a thing in this day and age.”_

_He shook his head, genuinely perplexed. “I’m not picking on you. It’s cool you like Edgar Allen Poe. Though for me I have to say I’m more of a fairy tale/disney kind of guy.”_

_Keith scanned him up and down, noting his laidback jeans and blue baseball shirt. “You look the part.”_

_“Dashing and charismatic?” He asked, a big toothy grin._

_Keith leaned on his elbow, his anxiety melting away as his new classmate stared at him with such innocence. “I was going to say--”_

_They were quiet, keeping their whispers to a minimum. But it was not enough to prevent the teacher from clearing his throat, glaring daggers at the two boys. Keith and the boy immediately redacted to studious student mode, their backs to the chair in a straight line and legs hiked up to the perfect angle._

_“Mr. Kogane, I realize this is your first day of class, but try to at least listen. And McClain, keep the conversations for the halls. Not my lectures. This is your second warning, young man.” He turned his full attention to Keith. “And your first, Kogane.”_

_Great. First day of school and he already made an enemy with a teacher. He just has a knack for pissing people off. As if his choice in clothes and short temper with bullies didn’t do that enough._

_It wasn’t all bad, though. Once the bell rang for class to be dismissed and the teacher assigned homework, as well as gave Keith his textbook, he left the room to find the boy standing by, flipping through his phone. When Keith emerged, he pocketed it. Keith was surprised, he thought for sure he would have left by now. They didn’t have much time before they had to make it to second period._

_“Woah!” Keith exclaimed. “Hi, again. I didn’t expect you to be hanging around uh...” What was his name?_

_“Lance,” the boy said. “My name is Lance. The tailor to some, because I know how to thread the needle.”_

_Keith blinked. “What does that even mean?”_

_Lance elaborated with too much enthusiasm, in Keith’s opinion. But they got talking. Keith didn’t know how, but there they were, walking down the halls shoulder to shoulder, gabbing away at who they were and why Keith moved to the sunny state of California. Why Lance was in deep shit with his math teacher, and going so far as to invite Keith to sit with him at Lunch. It was odd to be welcomed so fast. So easily. He loved it. Loved how they shared some classes together and got along well. Enjoyed his first-day lunch meeting and sitting with his friends, who were as friendly as Lance. Hunk and Allura were all sunshine, asking many questions on his journey to California and if he missed home._

_Keith couldn’t say he missed Arizona that much, not since it harbored a lot of bad memories in the foster care system when his parents died. He was adopted by Shiro and his family, that being the only good memories. Keith’s life at school there wasn’t filled with candied apples and sweet words. He was a loner; a emo kid in the back of the class with a discipline issue. He hardly had any friends, his grades were mediocre, and he tended to get in fights the majority of the week._

_But still. Shiro’s family worked with him regardless. And it seemed his new school was heading towards the same route, where his past was erased and he was seen as just Keith. Not the “troublemaker”, the one orphaned kid, not the disciplinary issue._

_He was Keith. Nothing more, nothing less._

_The sense of belonging, of being welcomed was enough to make him smile big, a rare occurence to happen in his life since he has had a streak of bad luck. It practically didn’t exist as Lance and him spoke, and interestingly enough Hunk and Allura kept sharing a certain...exchange. Keith wasn’t sure what it was. It was a quick quirk of their eyebrows and a glint in Hunk’s and Allura’s eyes, but not enough for him to decipher. He didn’t focus too hard on that. He was too deep in the conversation, their food growing cold and the hands of the clock flying by._

_The bell rang and they gathered their trays, Allura and Hunk going one way, Lance and Keith the other. They waved goodbye, planning to meet after school._

_They didn’t have the next class together. Keith had English and Lance had cooking class, the rooms on the opposite sides of the school. A part of Keith didn’t want to separate, having too much fun._

_Alas, he was trying to be a good student this year. He was mindful of the five minute bell, stopping at a point in the hall where they were meant to go their separate ways._

_“I gotta get to class,” Keith, looking over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”_

_“You don’t want to hang with Hunk, Allura, and I after school?” Lance asked._

_Keith waved his hand. “No, it’s not that. More like I have to meet up with my brother Shiro and update him on school life. Something about checking up on me, I don’t know. He acts more like an old dad than a brother.”_

_Lance laughed. “Alright then, see you tomorrow. Feel free to text or call if you need help catching up in the classes. Some teachers here are stupidly strict enough they won’t let innocent me slide by.” He wrote down his number on a piece of paper, tearing it out messily. Keith took it, sliding it in his book._

_“Yeah, maybe.” he started to backtrack, staring at Lance as he did, keeping a cautious sense to be aware of his surroundings. “Or maybe I’ll text you how the disney fairy tales are not nearly as hardcore as the real ones.”_

_“W-what?” Lance said, flabbergasted. “What do you mean? Hey! You can’t just leave me on a cliffhanger!”_

_Keith walked all the way to English hiding a smile behind his books._

\-----

Their first meeting was kind. Easy. He wondered how something so beautiful was twisted in a short amount of time. Mayhaps he was in his own fairy tale, except rather than the the disney version with a happily ever after stamp on it, he was in the Grimms version, where horror and fantasy found a middle ground. 

Maybe like the real little mermaid, his love will never be returned and he will gradually turn into seafoam, disappearing from the world just as fast as he was born.

It brought him to tears as a child. He could not say the same for his current state. His heart had been through the ringer enough the numbness had made a home for itself. Perhaps he was already seafoam, time washing bits and pieces of him and the “what if’s”.

He could not let this stew any longer. He couldn’t keep asking himself what went through Lance’s head. Why did he do it? Did he still love Keith? Why didn’t he break up with Keith before the incident? Why didn’t he fight for Keith? Why didn’t he come rushing to the airport, stopping Keith in his tracks in his famous, movie inspired way? Why did they both get away with the words said?

Why did he do nothing for two whole years?

Keith took a sip of his drink, buying time to start getting down to business. Lance did as well, sharing a sheepish shrug as he swallowed and cleared his throat.

“So...” Keith said, averting his gaze to a speck on Lance’s shirt. He couldn’t meet his eyes. “About where we left off...”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. The breakup.”

“And the incident.” Keith added pointedly. “We never did address it fully.”

“Mmhm. You didn’t see it completely--”

“I saw enough.” Keith said, curt. He was attempting to keep his temper in check, but his blood boiled with rage and hurt as the flashback punched him. He kept his eyes on the speck of dirt, his tone even and thorough, even as his hands curled in on the sides of the chairs. “You texted me to meet you at a local coffee shop. I came early because guitar practice got cancelled. I saw you with Nyma. I saw the kiss. That was enough.”

Lance’s arms flew in the air, haphazard motions stifling Keith’s description. “No! No, you didn’t see the end. What happened when you ran off.”

“You’re right. I didn’t want to see you shove your tongue further down her mouth.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Keith said. “If you wanted to date Nyma, you could have just broken up with me. You didn’t have to go to such lengths to prove you didn’t love--”

“Will you let me tell my side for once?” Lance slammed down his hands. The staff and some people near them glanced over, the restaurant hushing down from Lance’s outburst. Keith quieted, paying no mind to the stares and judgement. He leaned back, folded his arms, and waited for Lance’s poor explanation. His sad attempt to rebuild trust where there shouldn’t be an inkling of steel to help bring back the bridge he destroyed. 

\-----

_Keith was entering the guitar store when he received a text from Lance._

_“Meet me at Altea’s Coffee at 5:30. It’s important :)”._

_Keith texted back, letting Shiro know he wouldn’t be home until later. Keith wasn’t sure why Lance needed to see him today. He thought Lance planned a study date with Hunk and Allura. They could have cancelled and knowing Lance, he wanted to utilize the free time slot for some cuddles and a movie. They hadn’t been able to see each other recently. The end of the year was approaching, ACT test dates sent to every junior’s email and their parents, and cramming was inevitable. Their plates were more full than normal. Any time they could score to have with one another was a blessing._

_It came as no surprise how Keith waited with anticipation--and perhaps a little impatience--for the lessons to be over. Don’t get him wrong, he loved playing guitar. Loved learning new techniques and thankful his adoptive parents were open with the idea of allowing him to pursue a passion of his. But man did he miss his boyfriend. Homework and studying had taken all of their free time during the week. While the weekends consisted of family bonding, guitar practice, ACT prep. To have a date now with Lance would be a gift from the gods._

_Luck must have been on his side, for Kolivan had a cold and cancelled the class, promising to see him next week. Keith ran up the stairs of the shop’s basement, bursting through the doors and running down the street for the shop. It was a couple of blocks away from the shop, he would make it in ten minutes. He could surprise Lance with his early arrival._

_As he passed a multitude of shops, he came by a local bookstore. Keith stopped, noting the window displaying a collector's edition of fairy tales. Lance did mention how much he would love to own one of the collector’s editions, engrossed in the disney and non-disney stories Keith introduced. He had some time, and enough money he could splurge on his boyfriend. He did, afterall, spoil Keith a couple weeks ago with concert tickets. This could be a step to giving back._

_Keith entered the shop and came back out with the book, its cover and spine bedecked with gold trim and purple velvet. It cost a pretty penny, but the payoff will be great considering the beauty and crisp pages were an upgrade to Lance’s current edition. Keith was pretty sure it was near to falling apart based on its broken spine and frayed edges._

_He would wrap it if he had time. But he wanted to surprise Lance. He would not care if it was wrapped in a pretty bow or not--so long as Keith gave it to him._

_Keith started to run, his excitement bubbling over. He veered and dodged, almost running into people and close to being hit by a car (oops). But he didn’t let that stop him. His feet were as light as air; feathers in the wind, crisp autumn leaves dancing among the grass._

_But just as his run became a dance, just as his happiness burst at the seams by the shine in his irises and the smile slowly growing on his lips, the ice of reality reached out and seized his legs. The thing in his chest that beat with butterflies died down, their wings falling off as he stood across the street of Altea’s Coffee, watching Lance. Stumbling upon Lance and a blonde girl, her hair in pigtails and about the same height as Lance._

_They were close. Too close. Unnaturally close. Nyma came from their chemistry class. She was a cheerful person, deriving from another part of California. She was paired with Lance or an assignment, the two getting along well and even introduced herself to Keith when Lance told her he was with someone. Keith held no ill-will, and though his gut acted weary, he ignored his instinct of distrust and held a hand out, accepting the warm hand for just that: warmth._

_That’s what he thought._

_Yet he stood there, confounded as he watched the scene unravel before his very eyes. Her touching his chest. The way she leaned in, eyes half-lidded and a blush dusting her cheeks. Her other hand lifting to cup Lance’s face, leaning in and kissing him with a passion mirroring romantic comedies._

_Except this wasn’t a romantic comedy. This was a fucking horror show. His worst nightmare coming to life in all its ugly glory. It was the monster under his bed, hissing out the worst possible scenario Keith locked away with chains and an iron lock. But it was coming apart. The monster under his bed escaped. It tore through his barriers, striking at his chest with its larger-than-life claws, prying it open with a sickening crunch. Keith could feel it. The sharp nails cinching his heart. The wet, excruciating strain on the veins and tendons, blood spraying everywhere. His knees were weak, close to collapsing and the book falling from his hands._

_Lance wasn’t pulling away. He wasn’t doing ANYTHING. Wasn’t fighting. He just stood there. Kissing Nyma. Kissing someone that wasn’t him._

_Is this what he texted Keith about? A twisted way of telling him “hey, it’s over for us, babe”. To smack him in the face with the reality Lance stopped loving him long ago, and instead of breaking it off like a decent human being, he took a dull kitchen knife and forced it into Keith’s vulnerable chest._

_He didn’t know he was crying until they pulled apart, Keith’s reflection showing in the window of the coffee shop. He could see Allura inside, gaping like a fish. She abandoned her stance at the register, leaving an older ginger man to hold the fort as she shoved her way outside._

_“KEITH!” She yelled._

_Nyma and Lance looked the same way as Allura, Lance shocked to see him. He called his name, but Keith was already running. He had to leave. Had to get out. To escape. He can’t be here. Not when he was bleeding everywhere. Not when he had been suckerpunched in the gut, decked in the face, and ripped to shreds. Not when the tears kept coming in harsher waves, the looming storm sending down enough water to cease California’s drought and enough salt to rival the Great Salt Lake._

_The fairy tale book was left behind._

_And so was Keith’s faith in love._

\-----

Keith gritted his teeth and bared himself, preparing for Lance to defend his reasoning behind kissing Nyma. Instinctual arousal, true love, possibly a hook up. He didn’t care. No argument could fix what had already been done.

“Go on, then. Explain.”

He leaned in. “Keith, I never cheated on you. What you saw happened, yes, but you didn’t see or hear what was going on before and after. I went to your house to explain, but then we got in that huge fight and the heat of the moment got too hot--by the time I made sense of it all and cooled down, you were gone.”

“Uh huh.”

“Seriously, Keith. I never had a relationship with Nyma the entire time we knew her. Why would I cheat on you? Really why, when I was head over heels in love with you? You were great. Fun to be around, talented, always giving rather than taking, made me laugh--oh shit. Keith? Are you okay?”

Keith was rubbing his eyes, his shoulders slightly trembling against his will and the flashback of the past acid to his eyes. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have come here and given Lance a chance to reign him in. To convince him of a lie over the truth he saw with his own eyes. He should have booked it out of the dorms as soon as he grabbed his wrist. What was he thinking, giving him time to cover his tracks? For Lance to wrap his arms around Keith and tell him all the sweet nothings in his ears, trying to paint over the neon cracks and holes in the wall of reality.

“I can’t do this.” He took out his wallet, clumsily grabbing for bills. “Just--just stop. I can’t do this right now. I’ll pay you back for the meal just--just stop.”

“Keith, please _listen_ to me--”

“ **STOP!** ” Keith yelled, frightening the waitress about to hand them their food. She stood there, still, a hot plate in her hand as the hushing altered into whispers, as the whispers turned up in volume to Keith’s ears. It wasn’t helping he couldn’t keep his emotions in check, his hard exterior turning to mush as tears trailed down.

He was a fool to think everything would be okay. 

“I need to go. I’m sorry, I need to--I need to leave.” He jumped from the chair and shoved the door aside, fast walking in the cool night air. No more. There has to be a line to cross of how much pain he can endure and this was its breaking point. He thought he was strong enough to face Lance, but despite two years passing by the hole in his chest hadn’t scabbed over. It festered, becoming infectious and all consuming. And Keith had no way of coping with it except to run. Like back then. It’s what he was good at. A pro of vanishing into thin air, deceiving his problems into believing they won.

As soon as he made it to the dorms, he was packing his shit and getting out.

He may not be able to escape to a different college, but he had alternative places to live until the week was up.

Call him a coward. Scream at him for being a child. Kick him to the curb and declare him weak. But he refused to return to the darkness that consumed him that day.

\-----

_Keith slammed the door behind him and ran up to his room, the concerned voices of his adoptive parents following him, but they were drowned out by his crippling despair._

_He threw his bag down and bolted his lock, his lungs burning for air. He flew through a mile, no pit-stops as the memory played over and over again, a broken VHS tape flashing the same image of Lance and Nyma._

_Lance and Nyma._

_Lance and Nyma kissing._

_Lance and Nyma dating._

_Lance and Nyma in love._

_Lance was Nyma’s. Not Keith’s. Lance was Nyma’s. Nyma’s. Nyma Nyma Nyma Nyma_ **_Nyma_ ** _\--_

_A whimper left his throat, covering his mouth to silence his cries. He slid to the floor, not hearing the frantic knocking behind him. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. Lance said he...He said...He..._

_He lied._

_Keith wasn’t an emotional person. Not in public, and most of the time not in private, leaving it for his journal or to close it away, neglecting its existence. But there was no ignoring the bullet Lance aimed at his chest. There was no stopping the bleeding, and as the pain wrought his entire body, the use of stifling his whimpers became nought as they transformed into full on sobs. He didn’t focus on how loud he was being, he howled and he screamed. His body went from slumping to laying on the ground, curled in on himself and his tears wetting the floor. He wanted to tear out the thing in his fucking chest. He wished to erase what he saw, erase all of Lance and Nyma._

_He should have never befriended him. Should have acted cold and distant, wrapping encompassing himself in thorns and iron. Refuse the date with Lance. It didn’t matter how many great moments they had. It didn’t matter how much he smiled, laughed, and felt free. What mattered was how shattered he was, Lance taking him and kissing his head before he threw him in the trash. His skin was cracking, his eyes popping out, and his limbs hanging from his tendons._

_He was Lance’s doll. Now that he found a new shiny toy, Keith was obsolete._

_He cried for hours. He didn’t move from his spot until Shiro jimmied the lock, finding Keith silent and exhausted. Shiro almost tripped over his back._

_“Keith? Holy shit, Keith, what the hell happened to you?”_

_Keith didn’t answer. He couldn’t speak. He stared at the wall, tears crusting over older salt tracks and showing no signs of stopping. The only thing that stopped was his wailing._

_Shiro bent down, a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me. Mom, dad, and Allura called me like crazy. Said something about Lance?”_

_Keith covered his ears._

_“...That bad, huh?” Shiro lifted Keith, gently laying him on the bed. He sat by his bedside, waiting for Keith to do or say something. Allura wouldn’t say what happened. Just that he needed to get to Keith fast. He texted Allura, letting her know he was with him._

_And that’s when a fervent knocking occurred. Shiro stood, but Keith grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Don’t answer it. If it is Lance, tell him to beat it.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Trust me, please.” He whispered, letting go. “I don’t want to see him ever again.”_

_Shiro was silent, not understanding the situation. He sighed and said okay, leaving Keith’s room to get the door. Keith counted the minutes, his ears straining to hear Shiro tell Lance to leave. For Lance to argue, but inevitably deserting the plan to speak to Keith, instead turning his attention to his new girlfriend._

_Instead, as he heard the creak of the downstairs door, Shiro was not able to get a syllable out before an apology was rushed out and the stomping of feet against stairs. Keith tensed, praying it was Hunk or Allura._

_Lance almost flew by Keith’s door, grabbing the frame as he realized he was going too far. Keith squeezed himself in a tighter ball, hiding his face and digging his nails in his skin. How dare he showed his face around here._

_“Oh my god...” Lance said, hushed. He rushed to Keith’s side, hands lifting to cradle him. “Keith, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”_

_No. Stop it. Stop touching him. Stop acting as if everything was okay. Stop using those hands that most likely held Nyma close. Quit speaking with the lips he used on her painted lips. Don’t talk to him in the tone meant for faithful lovers, void of deceit and corruption._

_Don’t fucking touch him._

_“Keith, what you saw was--”_

_Keith unfurled to slap Lance’s hand away, moving his head up just enough to glare death his way. “Go. Away.”_

_“No, not until you understand Nyma and I.” He reached out again, Keith slapping it a second time._

_“Lance, I’m telling you now. Go home. I don’t want to hear it.”_

_“Give me a chance to tell you that it’s over.” Lance argued._

_Keith, disturbingly, began to laugh, it starting weak and airy, and ending strong and almost comical if not for the reasons for it. “Oh, you made yourself perfectly clear on why it’s over.”_

_“What? No I haven’t, I haven’t even started the half of it.”_

_“Oh only half! As if the kiss wasn’t self explanatory enough! You know if you wanted to end things you could have just said so. Not display it in front of our friends and ME. But what do I know, huh? You never could use your brain.”_

_Keith knew how he was being. How cruel and mean and terrible he sounded. How the hurt flashed in Lance’s eyes, his insecurities on his intelligence laid bare by the person he, at the time, trusted the most on that snowy evening the week before Christmas break. Keith didn’t care. Let him be hurt. Let him be slapped in the face. It mattered not to Keith, Lance was the one to throw the first knife. He started this and he would deal with the backlash._

_Lance himself seemed to not be able to hold back, his hands clenching and teeth bare. “I’m not the one who ran away with their tail between their legs. I’m actually trying to face my fears rather than run away like a coward.”_

_Keith didn’t miss a beat, standing up to face him nose to nose. “Yes, because I am totally the one who would stay and give someone a chance to rip my heart out a second time. Being hit by a bus would have been less painful.” Keith reached towards his neck and yanked off the chain, shoving it at Lance. He didn’t linger too long. Didn’t stay close to him, fearing it would make him weak. Cause him to excuse Lance’s infidelity. To open a gate for his poor attempt to alleviate his conscience._

_“Get out of my house.” He growled, stepping away. He had to keep his responses to a minimum. Get Lance out. He didn’t know how long he could keep his voice from trembling._

_Lance glanced down at what Keith flung at him, the shine in his eyes becoming glassier as he realized what exactly it was. “Keith, please listen to me,” He begged. “I know you’re upset, you have the right to be. But it’s complicated.”_

_“There is nothing complicated about cheating, Lance. You do it, it’s done. There is no going back from it.”_

_“I know that, why else would I be trying to talk to you?” Lance stepped closer, touching the tips of Keith’s fingers. “Please, I don’t want to lose you.”_

_Keith shook his head, his back hitting his dresser drawers. “You already have.”_

_“Keith--”_

_“SHUT UP!” Keith screamed. God just shut up. Stop making this so hard. Stop looking at him like a kicked puppy. Stop acting like you want to stay together. Stop making Keith believe in hope in a place destined for tragedy. Stop making Keith feel like the world is ending. Get the fuck out and leave him to burn._

_“Just shut up! I don’t want to hear it!” Keith grabbed the nearest book and threw it at him, tears in his eyes. It grazed Lance’s head, the boy dodging in time. He tried getting through to Keith, shielding himself and reaching out for him. Wanting to save him from the cliff he was already falling over, not realizing soon enough how far Keith was lost._

_“Shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP!” He threw more books. Threw his stuffed hippos, a bag of candy, a cup, CDs, anything he could get his hands on. He even dug up some clothes and wadded them up, placing all his anger and hostility in the throws. The most they would do was stun him. When that didn’t work, he flung the photo album Lance and him were working on just a week ago. Tore at the pages and scattered the photos, latex and cardboard hitting Lance’s shin. And to make his point clearer than crystal, he snatched the beautiful wooden framed photo of the two of them on their one year anniversary date and shattered it. Glass went everywhere, stopping Lance’s steps at last. He didn’t want to hurt Lance; to leave him with bruises. Keith just wanted him out, and if him losing his mind meant getting him away from Keith, then so be it._

_It split in half, separating the boys’ arms perfectly down the middle. The glass spidered and cracked, their grinning faces obscured by the rage and hurt._

_They were so happy then. Blissfully ignorant of the future, wholly consumed by the bubblegum pink hearts and chocolate covered strawberries. They were having a picnic, Keith surprising Keith with his hidden culinary skills and poor poetry that became endearing. Keith had started to read out what he wrote, giving up halfway due to his realization he should stick to strumming the guitar. He meant to tear it up. Was going to dispose of it in the nearest wastebasket. But Lance had laughed and took it away from him, claiming Keith wasn’t allowed to take back gifts. Keith groaned, but his disgruntled feelings faded into nothingness as Lance whipped out his camera and took a well placed selfie of them. Keith was shyly smiling at the lens and Lance was all grin._

_Yet here they stood, the hearts popping, the fruit souring, and rain clouds settled atop the dwindling horizon once called hope. Keith gasping for air. Lance staring down at the mess. Keith curled in on himself and Lance left hanging from his attempt at salvaging whatever there was left of their relationship._

_Keith hugged himself, turning to cover up the heavy flow of tears dribbling down his chin. “Get out.”_

_He heard nothing for a bit, silence coating the atmosphere like an unknown plague. There was a crunch of glass, a shuffle of papers, and the disappearance of footsteps. A part of Keith--a very small part--wanted Lance to fight more. To convince Keith what he saw was an illusion. But that was only wishful thinking. Keith knew what he saw, and he also knew there was no way of taking back the damage Lance wreaked._

_He made his bed. Now he had to lay in it. And Keith had to leave him. Had to show him the cost of his actions. As much as it hurt, he had to. There was no future without trust, and without trust there was no ‘them’._

_It didn’t take away from the fact as soon as Lance left the house and Shiro appeared in the doorway, Keith fell to his knees. He held his hands to his chest, pushing down to make the pain stop. To clot the blood pouring out of the gash Lance inflicted. It wasn’t enough, Keith putting a second hand over his first, the dull ache festering into a sharp agony. The room tilted. Shiro’s voice was distant and concerned, everything becoming a blur as the situation slammed onto his shoulders._

_It was over._

_They were over._

_No more late night calls. No more sweet kisses under the trees behind the high school. No more dances in the rain and no more holding hands in the hallways._

_The beauty of love that had Keith glowing ever since he moved in the sunny state was snuffed out. Keith worked so hard to keep it going. For Lance and him to be successful, to achieve the rarity of being high school sweethearts turned married couple. Maybe not marriage, but he had enough faith they would at least get by the separation issue college brings._

_But no. After today, they would be separated for the rest of their lives._

_He didn’t give Lance enough happiness, leaving Keith in the scattered remains of what was them._

_Keith’s gaze fell on the ruined picture frame, and before he could shove a fist in his mouth, he fully collapsed on the glass and started screaming in between the loud sobs. His heart was breaking. Everything hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. It was like his soul was being torn apart over and over and over again. Like someone shoved their claws in his chest cavity and squeezed until he cried uncle. Or lit a slow burning fire, the flames blue and covering his body in eternal scars. Hellfire was reigning upon him and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do to quell the bleeding and death of his future._

_Shiro was by his side in an instant, trying to calm him down. Trying to whisper everything would be okay. But nothing could make this okay. Nothing could take away the horrible, endless cycle of hurt and self loathing. Not with Shiro holding him in an embrace, not with his adoptive parents rushing in and cleaning the snot and salt from his cheeks, and not when Allura and all of his and Lance’s friends blew up his phone._

_He didn’t answer them, crying the night away with and without his family. They had to sleep at some point. Keith braced a cool exterior for them to go to bed with minds somewhat at ease. But as soon as his door shut and their lights went out, he curled in bed and soaked his pillow and gave into the darkest parts of his thoughts. In those moments, he truly wished he never existed._

_By the next day, he begged Shiro to take Keith with him to New York. Explained to his adoptive parents that while he loved them, he couldn’t remain. Couldn’t handle being stuck at a school containing nothing but painful memories, the sting of rejection, and the potential affection he could see between Lance and a person that wasn’t Keith._

_They let him go, though not without fighting it._

_Keith was gone by the end of the week._

_No calls or texts to his friends, no warning to his teachers._

_And certainly no contact with Lance. He purged his phone, threw out the majority of stuff Lance had given him, and left behind a bed and specks of shattered glass in between the floorboards._

_When he first arrived, he told himself he wouldn’t run._

_He would not be making that mistake again._

\-----

Lance watched as Keith flew out the door, his chair rocking back and forth on its legs and several customers looking between Lance and the stumbling boy. Lance went to grab him, but his fingers just grazed his wrist, once again out of sight and out of reach. The waiter came by and asked if everything was alright. If Lance wanted the orders to be placed in to-go boxes and offered the check.

Who the fuck gives a shit? The man he loves was slipping through his fingers a second time, and he was being asked if he wanted to-go boxes. To be fair he couldn’t get mad at the waitress, she was just doing her job. But everything felt wrong. It was all wrong. He wanted to prove to Keith what happened really didn’t happen; restore his faith in Lance and become at the very least, friends. He understood if they couldn’t get back together. He could make peace with that. It was better to keep him as a friend than a lover, if that was what Keith wanted.

But this. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be how their story ends. Book one came to be a tragedy. He wouldn’t let their second chance be thrown down the drain so soon, not without fighting harder than he did the day he drove to the airport.

\-----

_A full week had gone by since his and Keith’s break-up, Lance unable to get out of bed the first few days. He had come home late, his mother waiting for him in the living room to give him a scolding for not picking up his phone. When he passed the threshold, however, her motherly remarks died as she noticed how he walked. How he held some beat up photos to his chest, his feet dragged against the carpet, and his greeting hollow and quiet. She made several attempts to get him to talk, worried her bright star had gone out. He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t speak of what transpired, the image of Keith’s betrayed and hurt expression haunting him. He promised his mother he would explain the next day, but at the moment, he didn’t have the energy. Not without his throat clogging up and his vision becoming blurry._

_He trusted his mother. He didn’t trust himself. Didn’t want anyone near him. He wanted to lock himself away, turn the bolt and seal away the world, dousing him in the darkness he no doubt deserved. She kept checking, offering to brew up his favorite comfort drink and sit together until he was ready. He just shook his head, giving her a weak smile. He wasn’t okay. But he won’t do anything to cause hysterics. He only wanted to be alone right now._

_As soon as he closed his door, he fell onto the bed, still holding the pictures. It was dark, Lance not bothering to flip on the light or change out of his day clothes. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything besides turn over the crash of what began as a normal, fun morning._

_He was meeting up with Hunk and Allura at Altea’s coffee Shop. Allura’s father owned it, and she had invited the two for studying and free muffins. Keith had guitar classes at the same time, so while Lance would have loved the wonderful surprise of Keith joining the group instead, he technically wasn’t supposed to be there._

_Neither was Nyma. She scoped Lance out at the quaint shop, Allura running later than usual on her shift because of the new hire, and Hunk sent a text saying he was almost there. Lance Hung around, sipping on the free coffee Allura snagged him--much to Coran’s goofy chagrin. Nyma waved him over from the outside, Lance wondering what she was doing there. Didn’t she have drama club to attend?_

_Nonetheless, clueless Lance met her outside, Nyma asking if she could borrow his phone. She had dropped hers in the toilet and needed to text a friend to pick her up at the shop. He obliged, talking like the friends he thought they were since she first arrived at the school in January. It was normal. Nice, the two gabbing about the big spring musical coming up and how intense of a test Iverson was going to give out next Friday._

_The next thing he knew, she was kissing him. Grabbed him by the hoodie and pulled him in, lips glossed over with a shiny pink hue and a grip a ninja would admire. He tried to pull away, his heart skipping a beat and anger bubbling in his stomach. But she shoved him against her again, full body contact as her arms wrapped around him and she turned a simple kiss into a passionate one._

_Passionate to outsiders. Slimy and riddled with cruel intentions to Lance. He couldn’t get her off. Her nails were a trap, snagging him in place and leaving dents in his skin. He was being smothered; a viper diving down his throat and cutting off his voice. His way of vocalizing that this wasn’t okay. Her frosting gloss was poison. Her tongue an invasion of all he held dear. Her lingering presence sucking at his soul, tainting it with tar and the distinct sensation of dread._

_When he finally released himself, he was about to start yelling. Ask her what the fuck she thought she was doing. But her attention was drawn to something else, and when Lance looked, his heart dropped._

_Keith stood there. His Keith. And he was crushed._

_Lance lifted the few photos he gathered, biting his lip to stop the trembling. Keith wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to be at guitar practice. If not there, at home. That way he could have let Keith know of the kiss on his own terms and made it clear it wasn’t him who kissed her, but the other way around. To prove he would never cheat on him._

_Wait..._

_Lance fumbled for his phone and looked at his messages. Sure enough, Keith was at the very top. Lance opened the messages, scanning the blue and white speech bubbles as his despair once again morphed into rage._

_Nyma had told him to meet Lance at Altea’s Coffee. She didn’t contact a friend to pick her up, but Keith to drop by and walk in on them “kissing”, if you could even call it that. She plotted this. She found out how to perfectly manipulate the boys for her own gain. Which hurt, because he thought they were friends. Lance and Keith invited her to their table. Keith offered to tutor her in chemistry, swamped with assignments and overwhelmed with all the lesson’s content in a short amount of time. Lance acquainted her to the drama club, introducing her to the teacher running it and worked to break her out of her shell. Hell, the trio actually spent time with each other after school, occasionally seeing a movie they all were excited for or grabbing hot chocolate amidst the cold winter mornings._

_Keith it took a little bit for him to warm up to her, but he grew to like her. Lance was the puppy of the group, open to new friends and new opportunities. Keith, not so much. But once he grew comfortable, once he trusted someone, he was loyal to a fault._

_Not only did Lance trust Nyma, but so did Keith in time. Nothing but cold, hard, sharp icicles seized Lance. There was a rage that burned and burned and burned, destroying everything in its path until nothing was left but cinders. But ice, it didn’t melt. Didn’t turn everything into ruins, freezing everything in place. It grabbed its object of hatred and held on, refusing to smother its grudge. Forcing to wriggle and demand to be set free, forever trapped in an ice age never meant to bow down to the rays of the sun._

_Lance had never hated anyone. Except in those moments, wanting to storm to Nyma’s house and demand she fix this. He called and he called her, her high pitched, cheery voice mails the only thing she allowed to bestow Lance with. Her answer to his and Keith’s destroyed relationship, remaining in blissful ignorance of just how bad the damage was by her actions._

_She didn’t care. She got what she wanted. Reached her fucked up goal. Lance wasn’t a hundred percent sure she truly desired a relationship with Lance and that was why she did what she did. Nevertheless, it must have not been that much, for after the 20th forwarded call, Lance was sure she did it out of jealousy, insecurity, or the sheer drive to sabotage those around her. Either way, it didn’t matter. Their friendship ends here. No, it ended the moment she kissed him. The moment she sent that text to Keith._

_When he heard the damn beep of the voicemail go off, he himself went off. “Okay Nyma, listen clearly because obviously you’re too much of a coward to even answer the phone. We are done, you hear? DONE. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you not understand you hurt me? Hurt Keith? We were your friends, Nyma! We cared about you! And this is how you repay us?” Lance let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t come near me and my friends. You’re on your own.”_

_He threw the phone, it clattered against his clothes and his school books. He knew it wouldn’t break, it had a durable case on it. A part of him wished it would so he would get the satisfaction of breaking something replaceable._

_Keith wasn’t replaceable._

_He cried himself to sleep, loud enough to wake his twin sister Rachel, who came rushing in to see what was wrong. It did not take long for her to put two and two together, seeing as how Lance held the pictures and his phone tossed. She tried to get him to talk, but he would shake his head violently, unable to make words without sobbing. She threw the blankets to the side, crawled into bed with him like when they were children and he had a nightmare, and held his hand. She held him all night. While he cried, while he slept, while his mother came in the next morning to see if he was going to school._

_She never left his side._

_Neither Lance or Keith were seen the rest of the week. Allura stopped by, at first to tear him apart for the scene she witnessed and how worried her and their friends had been.. But as her bright sapphire orbs walked in on him and Rachel, she understood. He hadn’t changed still. His hair was a mess. His face was sticky with tears, and most importantly, his phone was back in his hand, a log filled with calls to Keith._

_Lance wasn’t showing signs of a man who cheated on his boyfriend. Lance was showing signs of a really bad breakup. A breakup he didn’t want to happen. A breakup he never intended to happen._

_A man who loved someone so fiercely, it left him physically and mentally wrecked to have the heart he cherished dissolve into ichor and sludge. A dead organism settling into rigor mortis, the rot extending from the edges to the inner depths of his bursting adoration._

_For a whole week he couldn’t fathom being alive knowing the gift he had been blessed with was ripped away from him in a matter of shitty seconds. All because of his poor judgement and his trusting nature. If he had more of a guard up, would he and Keith have made it? If he were more perceptive and less like a goddamn puppy, would he be saved from this horrid catastrophe?_

_Besides laying in his bed, he wanted to run back to Keith’s and give it a second shot and tell him the truth. But all he could remember when he considered the idea is the hurt--the hate--burning behind those glassy eyes. The violet orbs turning to sharp blades, a hard shield raised against Lance, and words more painful than a gunshot wound._

_Allura--bless her soul--yanked him out of bed and told him if he wanted to change the outcome, he had thirty minutes. She had asked Shiro what was going on with Keith, and though he resisted informing her at first due to Keith’s strict demands, he broke and spilled the beans._

_Keith was leaving with him on his flight home, all ready and packed for a one way ticket out of the state._

_“If you continue sulking you won’t have a second chance at getting Keith back,” Allura said, kind but stern. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He needs your side of the story, and fast.”_

_Soon he had two different pairs of shoes on, a wrinkled shirt, a jacket half on half off, and his hair in complete disarray. He jacked the keys from his sister, already sitting at the table with a coffee in hand and keys outstretched, knowing damn well nothing could stop Lance when he was on a mission. Once the buckles were fastened and his hand on the stick, he peeled out of the driveway as if his life depended on it. He had to resist Fast and Furious-ing it all the way to the airport, wishing to avoid any unnecessary blocks in his plan to win him back. Romcom style._

_Though he felt like he was in a horror movie rather than a nice little romcom._

_So when he pulled up, he paid the toll, ran to the entrance, and searched for the familiar mop of black hair. He shoved his way through mass crowds of people, hating the claustrophobic space, but living in the temporary relief of arriving on time._

_Or so he thought._

_No matter where he looked, Keith and Shiro could not be seen. Not at the check-in, the baggage claim, TSA security, or in the nearby Starbucks. He spent a good twenty minutes walking about, lost and confused._

_He texted Shiro, giving in to his hope that if he talked to the nicer sibling they would take pity on him and give him a crumb._

_It didn’t matter how nice Shiro was. What Lance received back sent him on his knees._

_“I’m sorry Lance, I didn’t know you would be here. We are about to take off and can’t get out. I’m so sorry.”_

_His chance was gone. And so was Keith._

\-----

Lance was not about to lose the person he considered the love of his life again. Not a second time. If the universe wanted them apart so bad, it wouldn’t have allowed the two to become roommates at random. Lance was late to picking his roommates, settling for a random pick. He did not look at the name of his room partner, he did not do any digging. He wanted it to be a spur of the moment friendship. Yet as soon as he recognized the familiar items, as he took in the boy that made his heart skip a beat and words wither at his mouth, he wasn’t about to bite the hand that fed him.

Prove himself he wished, prove himself he shall.

He messily gave the money to the waitress and ran out the door, yelling for her to keep the change. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure where Keith went. He didn’t know if he booked it to the small cafe across the street, hailed a taxi to return to the dorms, or disappeared into the night. Lance had no clues pointing to where Keith went--save for a clean black earbud laying on the ground a couple of feet away from a stoplight. 

Chances are it could have been dropped by anyone. Could have been some random passerby than a subtle arrow pointing to where the boy left. However regardless of the odds, Lance followed his gut and picked it up, looking towards a darkened park with a large pond.

His eyes weren’t the clearest, but there was no doubt in what he saw. He would recognize that mullet anywhere, walking along the other side of the pond, arms wrapped around each other as he wandered from one side to the other. He kept his head down, not noticing Lance’s approaching figure as he risked the speeding streets of the city. Yes he was playing around with death in those moments, but to be fair it was night time, and Lance was very good at dodging most bullets.

Key word being “most”. 

By the time Keith noticed him, he had nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. He froze, pure ice freezing what little liquid clouded his irises, backing away from Lance. His legs inches to run again, this time deep into the trees. Lance mimicked his action, a tired smile playing on his lips.

“We were together for a long time. I know how you tick, Samurai.”

Keith jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t call me that. You lost the right years ago. What do you want? Why do you keep following me when I don’t want to be followed?”

“Um, because the last time I left you alone you literally booked a ticket out of the state and vanished? Jesus Keith, I expected you to switch schools. Not ditch the entire world where I existed.”

Keith shook his head, turning away from Lance and staring into the depthless waters of the pond. “Just hurry up and rip the band-aid off. I’m tired, Lance. You don’t need to feed me what I want to hear, just tell me you never loved me and move on.”

Lance yanked at his hair, frustrated. “You’ve got to be kidding me...”

Keith picked up a smooth rock and flicked it, the stone skipping across the surface and dotting the pool with gentle ripples until it met with its siblings beneath the waters. “As funny as the sinking of the titanic.”

Lance wasn’t sure what exactly snapped inside him, but it was enough to make him stride to Keith, force his way in front of him, grab his arms, and stare into those emotionless orbs. He might as well be looking into a corpse, because there was nothing--not even a flame of anger--lighting the core of the dual amethyst crystals.

It hurts Lance to Keith seem so...so dead. So hopeless. Always ready to be abandoned, but never ready to accept what he deserved: unconditional, everlasting love. They had it. God they had the beautiful star of hope in their grasp and it was stolen from both of them. Rather than fight for the hope to be achieved once again, Keith was giving up. He was letting go of all they cared about--all they had been through and Lance couldn’t stand it. Lance was never a big fighter, but he was prepared to go against even the Gods. But Keith? The one who never gave up and spat in the face of cruel fate multiple times? He wasn’t there. This wasn’t Keith. This was something far worse.

Their love story became so twisted, it turned Keith into the person Lance believed he would never see: empty and alone.

So while Lance’s veins screamed at him to raise his voice and shake Keith, he knew that wasn’t what could bring him back. There was a possibility nothing could bring him back. But Lance could sure as hell try. 

Lance relaxed his grip, holding him still but lifting a hand up to his cheek, grazing his thumb on the soft flesh. 

“Keith. Look at me.”

He shook his head, ripping his face away from Lance’s touch. Lance didn’t try again, but kept his hands on his arms, preventing the hothead from running away again.

“Keith. Look. At. ME.” 

Finally, he did. Most likely out of irritation, but that was okay. As long as he was listening to Lance, that was all that mattered. 

“I loved you. I STILL love you, after all these years. What you saw that day, what happened, it was fucked up. We both did, but not once have I considered breaking up with you, and never did I want to cheat on you. Nyma planned the whole thing; sabotaged what we had. I’m not completely sure why--loneliness, jealousy, payback--whatever it was, it was her doing and not me. You didn’t see me push her away. You didn’t see me run after you. You didn’t see me at my worst at home after our fight, and you wouldn’t hear Shiro on who ran after you to the airport. Keith, if I didn’t love you, do you really think I would have tried fighting TSA to let me through so I had the one percent chance of getting on the plane?”

Keith slowly blinked, raising his eyes to Lance. 

“Ask my mother--she had to pick me up for almost punching security,” He joked, a small smile on his face. “It...it wasn’t my smartest move, but hey, go big or go home, right?”

Keith quirked an eyebrow, remaining silent. Okay no pressure.

“I confronted Nyma--or at least tried to. She was very...good at hiding. Allura had to help me, and you know how Allura abhores cheaters. She was about ready to beat my ass into oblivion. And I would have let her if she didn’t see me in such a broken state before and after you left.”

“Broken?” Keith asked, dry. Skeptical. Still refusing to feel.

“Yes. I was not okay, Keith. I was so in love with you I wanted to follow you to whatever college you chose. Or take a chance on a long distance relationship once we graduated, because I had that much faith in us. In you.” Lance’s throat constricted and his eyelids burned, the downplay of his feelings overflowing the dam he built the moment he saw Keith in their shared dorm room. He kept it locked behind iron doors and chains, swearing to himself he would remain the bubbly Lance everyone knew and loved. However burying it had its limit, and the cracking dam broke as he confessed what he carried on his back for over two years. 

He pulled away, letting go of Keith so he could brush the stray tears from his eyes. His body was upright and portrayed an element of control, but him looking away exposed more than he’d like. 

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” Lance said, eyes landing on the pond. “I know what happened was fucked up and we said some really nasty things. Things maybe you don’t want to forgive regardless. I respect that. Just please know I never cheated on you. I always loved you, even right now it’s...it’s hard being around you and thinking we can never be that close again.” He lets out a watery, low laugh. “ You may have moved on. You may want someone else, or you may still hate my guts for not doing more. I wont chase you anymore, as long as you know the truth of that day. And that I’m sorry.”

It was silent between them, the only sound breaking the atmosphere was the call of crickets. They stood there for what seemed like eons, Keith keeping his eyes on the ground and Lance staring into the pond. 

Once upon a time the silence between them would be nothing, a sign of them being comfortable enough around each other where it was welcomed. A comfort of being around each other and needing nothing to remind them of the love they held.

Now, it was agonizing.

Lance reached into his jacket pocket, grabbing an envelop and handing it to Keith.

“Hunk’s wedding is next weekend. He gave me an invitation and told me I could bring someone. If you...If you want to give it another shot, be friends or...or more, meet me at his wedding. If I don’t see you, I’ll take it as a sign you want nothing to do with me. You can move out and we will never see each other again. If that is what you want.”

“Lance--”

He gently pushed the envelope in Keith’s hands. “Just...Think about it.”

Keith said nothing as Lance buried his hands in his pockets and left the park. He said neither goodbye or goodnight, simply patting Keith on the head and turning away. Keith watched as he left, eyes trained on his back, fingers curling in on the invitation, and noting how Lance did not turn back once. 

\-----

The day of Hunk’s wedding had arrived, and Lance was filled with buzzing anxiety. 

Ever since Lance talked to Keith, their room had been quiet. Whenever Lance was home, Keith would be gone or dead asleep, headphones blasting metal music as he dreamed away. It was rare for Lance to find him that way, so vulnerable and open. He always found it amusing how Keith could never fall asleep to calm, classical music, amping him up further and negating his sleeping medication.

But as soon as he blasted Metallica or Asking Alexandria, he was out like a light. His limbs would be everywhere, a leg dangling from the bed and an arm over his head. Lance would smile as the display, recalling the numerous times he walked in on Keith like that during finals in high school. Keith didn’t relax well when he slept over at other people’s houses. But at Lance’s? It was his second home.

And Lance would always be the last to fall asleep beside him, taking his headphones off and kissing his forehead. 

When Lance arrived at the dorms, he did what he usually did, minus the kissing. He’d rather not risk his chances no matter how small they were. Plus, he respected Keith and his need for space. 

If Keith happened to be awake when Lance came home, he would say hello, and that would be it. He’d go back to his homework or book, headphones on until Lance conked out.

Lance couldn’t tell what Keith was thinking. At the wedding, he couldn’t help but fall into the spiral trap, his mind convincing him Keith wouldn’t give him a second chance. That he would be waiting all night, until the guests began to trickle out and Hunk and Shay drove off into the distance for their honeymoon, Lance having no choice but to accept the unhappy ending he so badly wanted to avoid. 

Lance braved a smile the entire marriage process, truly happy for his best friend and Shay. They were perfect for each other. A true disney fairy tale of love, blessed by Aphrodite and Hera themselves. They were the sweetest, kindest couple. For a short time he put aside Keith, being there for his best friend and making a speech about his lovable hufflepuff. He bid them a toast, and even joked to Hunk that he was placing bets with the others on how many kids they will have in the next five years.

The time for the reception came, where food was brought out and dancing commenced. The first dance had to go to the married couple, so Lance had some time sitting down, watching as Hunk continued to surprise Shay with how smooth he was. Yet Lance couldn’t help but glance to the doors, hoping they would open and a man in a suit and long dark hair would emerge.

As Hunk and Shay’s dance came to a close, Lance stopped looking, his heart in his stomach and his hope crushed. He did all he could. In the end, Keith made his choice. He didn’t want Lance back. Lance couldn’t blame him.

Everyone began to rise, excited to dance and let out their congratulations to the couple. Lance was flooded with the view of family and friends, he didn’t see Matt tap the DJ on the shoulder, looking at the dance hall’s doors with a smirk, and took over the song selection.

Everyone got in pairs, Lance starting to panic a bit because he couldn’t find a partner in time. He thought a fast song would play next, but because Matt was a little shit just like his sibling, he put on another slow song. Lance debated on sitting out the song when a hand touched his shoulder, scaring him to the point he squealed. 

As he turned, arms raised to fight the perpetrator, his mouth opened in surprise. It hung there, his arms slowly going back to their sides and his eyes trying to make out who stood before him.

Keith stood there, a red tie and a white button up with black dress pants. His hair was in its usual disarray, though there seemed to be some effort in looking nice by the way he kept moving his bangs to the side, not enough gel to quell them. He held the invitation in his other hand, nervous and glancing from Lance’s eyes to the floor.

“Hey.” He said. 

“You...you came.” Lance said, surprised. Utterly in shock. Someone needed to pinch him, he had got to be dreaming.

Keith scratched his neck, shifting from one foot to the other. “I...I wasn’t going to. I thought we should end it permanently. But Shiro and Pidge kinda burst into my room and talked to me. Went so far as to get Allura on the phone to express how genuine your story was.”

“You didn’t believe me?” Lance asked, hurt.

Keith shook his head,denying Lance’s reply. “No, no I believed you. I just...I didn’t think you’d be happy with me still. What with all I said. And stuff.” He moved his attention to Hunk and Shay, his eyes softening. “I thought you deserved someone else who could give you what they have.”

“Keith...”

“I’d understand if you changed your mind,” he continued, still looking away. “If you want a new start with someone else. But I figured I would come here to give you both closure and a chance. You may not--”

“Yes.”

“What?”

Lance smiled, soft and kind, taking the leap and encompassing his arms around Keith. “Yes, I’ll have you. Keith, seriously? After ALL I SAID you still DOUBT me? I’m a tad offended.” Lance said, teasing him. “If I didn’t want you, I wouldn’t have been having a heart attack this entire time.”

For awhile now Keith had been cold and distant. But as soon as Lance wrapped his arms around him, his hard edges blurred and smoothed over, a long overdue smile gracing his lips. He wasn’t a crier, yet Lance could see a veil of water glaze his eyes. Slowly, Keith wrapped his arms around Lance’s neck, the song starting and the two falling into the rhythm of the dance. 

They were in a room full of people. But together, it felt as if they were the only two people to exist in the world.

“We will still need to work on some things. Trust and all that,” Keith whispered, eyes never leaving Lance. “But I think we can work. If we try.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He leaned his forehead against Keith’s, closing his eyes and his chest lighter than air. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Keith said, embracing the touch. Saying those words he kept back for far too long.

As they danced, they too felt blessed. Happy to be reunited, happy to have a second chance at love.

\---

ART: https://binuboi.tumblr.com/post/628298423934844928/dance-with-me-darling-made-for-the-2020-klance

**Author's Note:**

> And yall thought I would not let my boys get back together again. SYKE
> 
> please leave a comment and kudos :) Would you guys like to see an extended version? Let me know!


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